The Exchange
by steubec
Summary: What if our beloved Longmire characters exist but in an alternate universe without some of the background we've been given on them? Some things are the same but some are different. Vic never married Shaun and never moved to WY. Walt never married Martha and is about 15 yrs younger. There's no Cady, but there is Henry. That's what this is. Warning for language!
1. Where is Absaroka?

i **This is an AU story that has been rolling around in my head for some time. Inspiration struck this morning and what follows is the result. Y'all know I'm not always quick with new chapters but I will do my best.**

* * *

"Fuck!"

The exclamation bounced off the linoleum floor and echoed against the metal desks in the room. It was out of her mouth before she realized it. She quickly glanced around, glad almost everyone was already gone for the day. Mendoza was sitting at his desk in the corner but didn't even look over to acknowledge her slip up. The Chief had been getting onto her about her language. The last time he had threatened to start writing her up if she didn't get a handle on it. She had gotten back to the station late today, her field work delayed by a particularly difficult interaction at lunch with her now ex-boyfriend who she desperately hoped was done getting his shit out of her apartment. She had told him to leave the key on the counter when he was finished but she didn't imagine he'd bother sending her a courtesy text that he was done and gone, leaving it safe for her to go home. Didn't really matter anyway. She had more than enough things to do at the station to keep her busy. Besides, she could catch a few hours of sleep later in the locker room if she had to, just in case Shaun was trying to delay his efforts so he'd still be there when she arrived home.

It might take her awhile to get everything done anyway as she was having a hard time concentrating on her paperwork. She still couldn't believe Shaun. They'd met 2 years ago at a bar and while sparks hadn't flown immediately he and the whiskey had eventually worn her down and she went home with him that night. He was nothing like anyone she had dated before. He had the kind of job where you showered before work instead of afterwards, not like the grease monkeys and blue collar guys who typically went for women like her. She had an edge to her that scared a lot of men off. She was attractive, smart, quick tongued and some would say brash, but she was happy with who she was. It was how she had survived as one of five children born to her parents and the only girl.

She'd grown up with four brothers she adored and an overprotective father. Her relationship with her mother was...conflicted to say the least. If Lena Moretti had been hoping for a quiet and sweet daughter who she could clothe in pink dresses and bows to raise alongside her four rambunctious boys, Vic had to have been a huge disappointment. Still they'd come to an understanding over the years and even though Lena did not always agree with Vic and her actions, she supported her in whatever way she could. However, she could never really get behind Vic's choices in men. From the time she and boys first discovered each other existed in the 5th grade, Vic had been picking the "wrong" ones in her mother's eyes.

Shaun was a change from that, the first person Vic had ever dated that her mother actually liked. That should have been a sign that he wasn't a good match for her. Even so, their relationship went well for quite a while. It hadn't started to go downhill until Shaun began talking about their future together. He hadn't proposed or anything but he would say it like it was a forgone conclusion: they would get married, have babies and live happily ever after. The problem is, he never asked Vic what she wanted. Vic went along with it for the most part. After all, they had a good time together and the sex was great but she never really took the future talk seriously until the night he asked her if she would quit her job before she got pregnant or after. That's when the fights began and Vic quickly realized Shaun wasn't going to budge on this particular topic. His mother had stayed home to raise him and the mother of his children would do the same. Vic had finally had enough and today she met him for lunch and told him it was over, she was done. Needless to say, Shaun wasn't willing to just accept it. She stayed calm for a long time listening to his feelings and answering his questions. No, there wasn't someone else. Yes, she was sure. No, there was nothing he could do to change her mind. When he started to raise his voice and the interaction began to get ugly, she simply got up from the table and walked out of the restaurant. She'd texted him from the car to get his things from her place and leave the key and that was it.

Vic had been working homicide for the Philadelphia Police Department for over 5 years. She'd put in her time on the street, worked hard and earned her way to a position as one of the senior detectives. She was good at her job and she liked it. She sure as hell wasn't going to walk away from it to play house. If Shaun really knew her, really cared about her and paid attention, he would have known that. If he really loved her, he would have never asked her to leave it behind.

So, she cut him loose and tried her hardest to focus on work for the rest of the day, but now she had something else to be pissed off about and her boss didn't even have the decency to tell her in person. He sent it in an email. What a coward.

This was the icing on the cake. Icing made of lube because she was getting fucked and not in a good way. And the cake was made of horse shit because that's what this was. Ferguson, her partner, was being sent out to Wyoming for two months as part of a new initiative the department had started. In exchange, Wyoming was sending a deputy sheriff out to Philadelphia to take his place for the same amount of time. She picked up the hockey puck she kept on her desk and slammed it back down.

She heard Mendoza clear his throat, "I know I may regret asking, but what's wrong?"

"You know that IACP Conference Chief Simms went to last October? Well, he drank a couple of beers with some Sheriff from Wyoming one night and the two of them hatched a plan to do an officer exchange."

"Officer exchange?"

"Yeah, some departments have been doing it for years, but it's usually international. An officer from another country comes to the U.S to see how we do things here and vice versa."

"Like a foreign exchange student?"

"Same idea anyway. So Simms and this sheriff start talking about how it could benefit both of their departments to do something similar. Give everyone a different perspective on things and new experiences, see how another department operates. It's been so long since he mentioned it, I thought he had forgotten about it. Damned if today he didn't send me an email that he's sending Ferguson out to Wyoming for two months starting next week.

"Better him than you, right?"

"Yes, but who do think gets to partner with the Wyoming Deputy they're sending here in his place? Me, that's who. I don't have time for that shit!"

It could be worse. At least she was only on the receiving end of this little experiment. She thought maybe she should get a sympathy card for her partner to express her condolences that he'd won the golden ticket to the wild west. But then again, she wondered if he had volunteered for the assignment just to get a break from her. He had taken a personal day today, said he was spending the day with his grandmother for her 85th birthday, but now she wondered if he just didn't want to be around when she heard the news. Vic knew she hadn't been easy to work with the last few months. When Shaun started acting like a shit head she'd taken it out on Ferg and anyone else who happened to be standing close by. She knew it wasn't right but she did it anyway. Still she didn't deserve this, did she? If she couldn't hold her tongue with people she knew and with whom there was some mutual respect, how did they expect her to be able to do it with someone with whom she had no relationship at all? And she certainly didn't want to have to babysit some dumb ass cowboy.

"Where the fuck is Absaroka County, Wyoming anyway and what the hell kind of person would ever choose to live there?"

Mendoza sighed, "Sounds like you're about to find out."

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 **I have been quietly processing S4. Though I haven't needed therapy over it as badly as some others, it has been an adjustment for me. I like the Doc but it's just wrong that our two favorite law enforcement officers are not together. Even so, I have kept my thoughts mostly to myself about the whole thing. My apologies to the great stories that have been posted that I have either not yet read or have read but not reviewed. Thanks for reading!**


	2. Wyatt Earp

Vic eventually went home that night but only after texting her brothers and meeting them for a few drinks at their favorite neighborhood bar. They were more than willing to embrace their sister's break-up as an opportunity for some much needed relaxation and sibling camaraderie. By the time midnight rolled around they had drunk their fill. With bear hugs for their sister, the older three said goodnight and headed their separate ways. Vic's younger brother Michael stayed behind and followed Vic to her apartment. He wanted to be with her in case Shaun was there waiting for her to return. He wasn't. In fact, the man had successfully removed any trace that he had ever been there, even down to taking his favorite flavor of coffee creamer out of the cabinet. Michael sat in a chair and silently watched Vic take inventory of her home. It wasn't until she collapsed on the couch with a sigh that he asked the question he'd held onto all evening.

"You okay?"

Vic glanced over at him. She knew better than to pretend she didn't know why he was asking. They were the closest of the Moretti siblings. He was protective of her but not in the same way Vic, Al and Tony were. Her three older brothers still thought of her as a little girl. But Michael, he thought of her as an equal and as a result, she told him things she usually kept from everyone else.

"Yeah, I am. Pretty relieved, actually."

She knew there was no point in re-hashing the problems in her defunct relationship because Michael had already heard them.

"Good. I'm glad you finally got the courage to end things. He wasn't good for you."

"I know he wasn't, but will anybody ever be? It's not like I attract high quality men."

"The right one's out there for you, the two of you just haven't found each other yet."

"I don't know. I think I may done looking. Seems to always be more trouble than it's worth."

"Well, I think 'the one'," He made cheesy quotation marks in the air with his fingers, "will come along when you least expect it from a completely unlikely source."

She rolled her eyes, one of her more endearing habits, "Shut up. You say that like you know something about love. You don't know shit about relationships. None of yours have ever lasted long enough to even count."

Michael tried but failed to suppress a grin, "Okay, you're probably right. I just know that there has to be a man out there with the balls to push through your attitude and discover how wonderful you really are. Someone who'll break through your defenses and steal your heart away. And when he does, he'll treat you the way a real man should treat a woman."

Vic snorted, "Whatever."

He leaned forward putting his forearms on his knees, "So, what else is going on with you?"

Vic yawned and stretched her arms up over her head, "What do you mean?"

"Well, you said that you're relieved and I believe you, but you still look like you want to punch somebody in the face. What's that about?"

Vic hadn't mentioned the officer exchange while with her brothers. She had been having too much fun bonding with them over their mutual dislike of her now ex-boyfriend. She hadn't wanted to ruin it by bringing up work.

She gnawed on her bottom lip and gave Michael a sideways glance.

"You may as well tell me. You know you want to."

Michael was right. She did want to talk to someone about it and he was probably her best option. Maybe he could help her to get it straight in her head. She filled him on the recent development at work including how she had been taking her relationship frustrations out on her partner.

"Now, because I couldn't keep my mouth in check, I have to spend the next two months partnering with Wyatt Earp."

Michael smiled, "It won't be as bad as all that. The guy's from 2015 not 1875. Besides, Wyatt Earp was in Kansas, not Wyoming."

"You know what I mean."

"Look, call Ferg, apologize and wish him good luck. When he gets back, the two of you can have a fresh start. I think you can handle two months without him and maybe this Longmire guy won't be so bad. Since he's not from around here then he's never heard of you or any of the rest of the family. You get a chance to partner with someone who doesn't have any preconceived ideas about you. You have a lot you can teach someone and if you're open to it, you might actually learn something in the process. This could be just what you need right now."

"I'm not sure I buy what you're selling but it guess it makes a little sense. Thanks."

"No problem" Michael stood, "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going home to get some sleep. Unlike the rest of you, I'm still near the bottom of the totem pole in my precinct and I have to work a full shift tomorrow. I'll let Mom know one less place setting is needed for Sunday dinner. That way you won't have to talk to her about dipshit until you're ready."

"Is it the fourth Sunday already?"

"Yes it is."

Victor Moretti, Chief Inspector, Field Division North, and patriarch of the Moretti clan insisted on having his brood over for dinner every fourth Sunday of the month. He would have preferred to have them over every week but as the children got older and moved out on their own, it became more and more difficult to get together. Shaun had come to the family dinners the last few months and Michael knew his mother would be expecting him.

Vic smiled, "Thanks Michael. You're the best."

She stood and gave him a hug.

"I am the best actually, just ask Mom."

"Now you're taking it too far, Moretti. Go home." She playfully pushed him toward the door.

As Vic turned off the lights and made her way to her bedroom she thought about her little brother's advice. Maybe he was right. She'd contact Ferg in the morning and see if he would meet her for coffee. That way they could clear the air in person before he left town instead of having to do it over the phone. Ferguson was kind of a dork but he was her dork, and he was a really good partner. They complimented each other well. She didn't want to ruin it by being stupid or stubborn.

As for Wyatt (the name had stuck in her head) she would do a little investigating and see what she could find out about him over the next two days. At the risk of feeling like she was starring in a Schoolhouse Rock video, she knew knowledge was power. She wanted to make sure she would have the upper hand when her new temporary partner arrived in Philadelphia.


	3. Internet Research

Vic was unsettled. She had been feeling that way ever since returning to her apartment. The family dinner had gone well enough. Vic's mother was on her best behavior and didn't say a word about Vic's breakup. Her father had offered his daughter a longer than usual hug upon her arrival coupled with a kiss on the cheek. It was his way of giving comfort and letting her know he was there if she needed him but that otherwise he trusted her to see to her own affairs. Her brothers had already moved on to the next topic of discussion: Vic Jr.'s revelation that he'd knocked up his girlfriend. Vic was ashamed to admit it but she had never been so thankful for an unplanned pregnancy as she had been this afternoon. Most of her life, she's been the one taking the heat off of her brothers with her shenanigans. It was nice for the tables to be turned for once. Besides, Jr. and his girlfriend were both fully employed, independent adults. It's not like they were 15. She kept her mouth shut about it though, so as not to draw any attention back toward herself by speaking out. She'd give him a call later after everything had settled and let him know her thoughts on the subject without having the family as an audience.

Now that she was home, she tried to keep herself distracted but it wasn't working. She eventually just sat down and looked over her notes from Saturday's fact finding session. After meeting with Ferg in the morning, she had gone home and set up shop with her laptop and a legal pad. There was very little written down considering how much time she had spent researching the Deputy Sheriff from Wyoming. A straight up Google search of his name coupled with various modifiers including deputy, Wyoming, and Wyatt Earp gave her squat. She checked the official website for Absaroka County but it offered nothing useful, only the name of the sheriff and a contact number for the department. From there she looked at Facebook, Twitter, you name it, but the man did not appear to be on social media of any kind. She finally had some success with the local newspaper. The Durant Courant (what the hell kind of a name was that?) posted it's bi-weekly publication online. It was a very basic website where she couldn't search for a name directly but she skimmed through about 5 years worth of issues. That was all that was available in the online archive. She found several stories about cases being solved where Deputy Longmire was mentioned. There was one story where he was scheduled to be the key-note speaker at this year's Pancake Day hosted by the Methodist Church. Pancake Day? He had a habit of regularly hitting homes runs in the annual Sheriff's Department vs. Fire Department softball game. And finally, she found an obituary for his father from February 2012.

While the papers helped her to know way more about Durant, WY than she had ever wanted to, they had provided only basic information regarding her intended target. Based on what she read, it appeared he was a solid investigator with a good reputation in the community. That was good to know but not enough. She wanted to get a better picture of the man with whom she was going to spend the greater part of the next two months. The obituary yielded some additional information. He was an only child, single and had no children. His father was a ferrier (Vic would admit to no one that she had to look ferrier up to see what it meant) who kept a small ranch until his death. His mother had passed away several years before her husband.

And that was it. Vic's knowledge ended there. She had no idea if he had gone to college, what other community activities he was involved with or whether he had any indiscretions in his past. She picked up her cell, briefly toying with the idea of contacting her buddy over in the internet crimes division to see what he could dig up, but she didn't want to start a shit storm of questions about why she couldn't just wait until he got here and ask him what she wanted to know then. She eventually stooped low enough to check out the Durant Topix page, but it was not a very active board with only two discussions posted in the last year: one where a woman was trying to find an old friend that was supposedly living in the area and the other a "debate" over whether marijuana should be legalized. She started to open her laptop to give it another go but thought better of it. She didn't want to waste anymore time in a fruitless pursuit. Whether she liked it or not, she was going to have to suck it up and wait to meet him in the morning. It was going to be a long night.


	4. High Noon

The hours managed to tick away but not quickly enough for Vic. After being awake most of the night, she eventually fell asleep on the couch around 4:30 am, an hour before her alarm was set to go off. It seemed to work that way on nights when her brain wouldn't allow her to rest. She'd always get really tired not long before she had to get up. Today she only hit the snooze one time before reluctantly pulling herself into a seated position. Deciding to skip her morning run she opted instead for a longer shower than usual and a few extra cups of coffee. She questioned that decision now that she was sitting at her desk at work. Unaccustomed to the extra caffeine, she was having a hard time sitting still. What seemed like a good idea at 5:30 am wasn't helping the inexplicable anxiousness she was feeling over meeting the new guy today.

She glanced at the clock on the wall. 9:00. She looked over at the Chief's office and could see him talking on the phone. She turned back to the clock. Deciding she couldn't take it anymore, Vic pushed back from her chair and made a beeline to his door, knocking forcefully. He looked up from his desk and held up one finger. He spoke into the phone another few seconds before hanging up and waving her in.

"What time is he supposed to be here?"

"Sit down Moretti."

"I don't want to fucking sit down, I want his ass here already. The sooner we get this bullshit started, the sooner it will be over."

Chief Simms leaned back in his chair, crossed his arms and regarded the pissed off detective pacing back and forth in his office. He hated having to deal with Victoria Moretti. He always had. It wasn't because her father could physically crush him or end his career with one word to the right person. It wasn't because he had been in the academy with her oldest brother and had heard stories, lots of stories. It was because she was mouthy and moody, loud and opinionated. She always had been and he figured she always would be. It was a pain in the ass to get anyone to partner with her for long. Ferguson had been the exception. He had been with her for over a year and the two seemed to have an understanding. That's why he was a little surprised when Ferg came to talk to him several weeks ago. Apparently, there was trouble in paradise and Ferg needed a break. So, rather than reassign him he decided it might be the perfect time to call Sheriff Connally and set up that exchange they had talked about last fall. It would give both of them a little space and hopefully fix whatever problems she and Ferg were having.

He picked up a folder off his desk and opened it revealing a black and white photograph of Deputy Walt Longmire, Absaroka County Sheriff's Department. He had read the file in depth last week but took the time to hit the highlights again. He knew if Vic had known the file existed she would have helped herself to it as soon as she found out about the exchange. Longmire earned a degree in English from USC where he was a starter on the Trojan football offensive line. After college he went into the service and was with the Marine Corp Criminal Investigation Division. He spent some time stationed with Air Force Security personnel in Afghanistan. He'd returned to his hometown of Durant and gone to work for the Sheriff's department after completing his 6 yr commitment to the military.

The man looked good on paper but he wasn't sure how he'd do here. From what Lucian had told him, Absaroka wasn't the most happening place on the planet. Sure, Longmire had military experience but military investigations are much different than working in the civilian world. As for his experience since then, breaking up bar brawls and running cows out of the road aren't exactly the kind of things you do on a typical day working homicide in Philadelphia. What if all this was too much for him? If it was, the Chief thought Vic would be good at keeping him straight. In spite of her less refined qualities, she was a damn good cop with great instincts. She wasn't easily intimidated. He knew she could prevent anything bad from happening with this guy should the need arise. He sighed softly knowing keeping her calm for the next, he checked his watch, three more hours was probably going to be the hardest part of this whole thing.

He glanced up from the file to find Vic standing right in front of him, eyes narrowed and hands on her hips. He closed the file.

"Look, I put all this in the email this morning. His flight got in late last night. I told him to make sure he got enough rest before coming into the station and that as long as he was here by noon that would fine."

"Noon? Dammit, The day may as well be gone by then. I can't sit around here waiting for him, I've got shit to do."

Simms was giving Vic a pass on her language today. She was obviously feeling unsettled about the whole situation. That, and he still felt a little guilty at not telling her about all this in person the other day. He decided to change the subject.

"Have you heard from Ferguson yet?"

The mention of her partner caused Vic to relax her stance a little, "Yes. He called yesterday morning. Apparently Wyatt is letting Ferg stay at his cabin while he's here in Philly and Ferg's returning the favor."

"Wyatt?"

Vic ignored him and continued, "They bonded over beers at a place called The Purple Pony or something like that. What the hell kind of name for a bar is that? I wouldn't think they'd have too many gay bars in a state like Wyoming but that sure sounds like the name of a gay bar. Anyway, Ferg couldn't stop talking about how beautiful Wyoming is and how excited he is to try his hand at trout fishing this weekend." She rolled her eyes, "You'll be lucky if he decides to come back."

Chief Simms decided to take the opportunity to try to get to the bottom of Vic's bad mood, "Actually it's you who'll be lucky. I'm not sure I can talk anyone else into partnering with you. Even easy going Ferg needed a break. I'm hoping you'll have chilled out a little before he gets home so you'll climb down off his back. What's had you so tied up in knots anyway?"

She pressed her lips together and shook her head, "Doesn't matter anymore, It's over."

"Vic"

"Drop it."

He knew the look she was giving him and even though he was justified in pursuing his line of questioning based on her recent behaviors at work he decided to let it go, "Okay. You just make sure you don't run this Longmire guy off. Lucian and I thought we might use this experience as a prototype. Who knows, we play our cards right, this could be held up as a model program across the nation.

"I never had you pegged for having delusions of grandeur."

"I don't. But if it means I can leave this job a little early and get paid to travel the country promoting a program like this I'll sure as hell do it."

He leaned his head to the side, "Look, Vic, go back out to your desk and try not to think about it. I'm sure you can find something to do here to keep you occupied until Deputy Longmire arrives. And his name is Walt, not Wyatt."

"Whatever."

Vic sighed. She wasn't one to give up, but she realized she was fighting a losing battle with this one. There was nothing she could do to make the Wyoming Wonder get to the station any sooner. Without another word she turned to leave. She pulled the door open ready to go back to her desk but was stopped short when she nearly ran into a man standing just outside the door.

She stood there for a moment, her hand still on the doorknob. Vic had been so aggravated at the situation and so focused on getting out of the office that she hadn't noticed anyone walking up to the Chief's door. Now she suddenly found herself eye to eye, or rather eye to neck with a rather tall man with broad shoulders. She kept her face forward and tried to control her rapidly rising anger. Out of habit she glanced down with her eyes and noticed he was carrying so he had to be official or the others would have intercepted him before he made it this far into the station. Well, official or not, he was blocking her escape route.

She didn't bother looking up at his face. She didn't want to engage him so there was no point. She just wanted him to move so she could get back to her desk. She clenched her teeth and spoke under her breath,"Get the fuck out my way."

"Excuse me." He caught the door to hold it open and stepped to the side to let her pass. His voice was deep, what you might expect from a man of his stature, but Vic had neither the energy nor the desire to contemplate that at the moment.

"Moretti, stop." It was the Chief. Seriously, was he trying to get her to pop off? Wasn't entrapment frowned upon in their profession?

"What?" She stopped walking but didn't bother turning back around to look at him.

"It seems your wait is over. This is Deputy Longmire. Deputy," he gestured toward Vic's back, "This is your partner for the next two months, Detective Victoria Moretti."

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 **At the expense of my other responsibilities I have been unable to leave this thing alone. My loss, your gain I hope. Now that this chapter is up, I need to buckle down and get some actual work done over the next several days so chapter 5 won't be up as quickly as this one. Thank you for the follows and reviews and for being so patient waiting for Walt's arrival.**


	5. Boots

Vic wasn't sure if it was her boss or the other guy, but someone had ushered her back through the chief's door and into his office. She knew it ultimately didn't matter who had done it, though to know would have given her a target for her growing irritation. Instead, she was seated in a hard, wooden chair left to quietly stew about her current circumstance: being stuck in a place from which she had been desperate to escape less than a minute before, seemingly forgotten by the other two people in the room. She was accustomed to being the one commanding her boss's attention. She made damn sure of it in fact. However, that privilege presently belonged to one Walt "Wyatt Earp" Longmire, cowboy deputy. He was standing a few feet away from her with his weight shifted to his right leg and his hand propped on his gun. Chief Simms was leaning against the front of his desk, legs crossed at the ankles. The two men were engaged in conversation about his trip, how he was settling in at Ferg's apartment and get this, ignoring her. No one was paying her any attention at all. Normally that would piss her off but she was actually somewhat thankful for it as she was trying her damnedest not to stare. Trying, but failing.

Vic couldn't seem to keep her eyes off the man that came packaged with the sonorous voice she had heard a moment ago. She guessed him to be in his mid-thirties, around her age. He was noticeably taller than Ferg, with whom she stood eye to eye, and was probably at least 6'2". His sandy colored hair was long on top, the ends edging over his ears and just starting to hang down onto his neck. It looked thick and a perhaps a little coarse. She wondered what it felt like. His squared off jaw was covered with stubble, a trait she wouldn't admit she finds attractive. She thought it curious that he hadn't taken the time to shave before coming in and wondered if that was standard for him. His face and neck betrayed the copious amount of time he must spend outside. His hands were also tanned and she thought they looked rugged, capable of managing anything they may need to. He was wearing a dark blue button down shirt, opened at the collar and a brownish tweed sport coat. Because it was currently pulled back on one side by his hand, it revealed his weapon which was a bit of an anomaly, a Colt 1911 with some type of custom grip. Not a bad pistol, but an uncommon choice for modern law enforcement due to it's weight and slow firing rate. She made a mental note to ask him about that later.

From his gun, her eyes drifted to the buckle on his belt which begged to be studied a little more closely. It was a silver rectangle, engraved with designs along all four edges. In the center was what looked to be some kind of clawed foot. It was difficult for her to determine what kind of footprint it was meant to represent, but it was definitely of Native American origin. When Vic realized how much time she had spent inspecting the area around his waist and it's proximity to other things, she started to blush and quickly continued her assessment downward. It didn't help the heat rising in her cheeks however when she saw how his long legs were perfectly covered with what looked to be a new pair of Levi's. She couldn't see for herself because of the sport coat, but she could imagine how well the denim must hug what she was sure was a nice ass. She finally made her way down to his feet. They were clad in brown boots. Unlike the jeans, these were not a recent purchase. They appeared sturdy and well broken in, but still in good shape. She wondered how far those boots had walked both literally and figuratively.

Vic was so deep in thought that she didn't realize the two men had stopped talking and were both looking at her.

Walt looked down to where her line of sight was tracking before speaking, "They're boots."

It was enough to pull her out of the trance into which she had seemed to have slipped. She looked up at him. That's when she saw his eyes, They were blue like the sky after a rain. Right now, they were twinkling at her. He looked pretty smug at having caught her inspecting him. She found herself wanting to make him pay for noticing, "No shit Sherlock, I know what they are."

The Chief actually laughed out loud, "I think the two of you are going to get along just fine, Walt."

Vic ignored him. Yes, she knew what boots were. What she didn't know was why they and the rest of this deputy from Wyoming seemed to be affecting her the way they were. She had to do something to regain her composure and quickly. She knew she could always rely on her best friend to help her out of a jam so she defaulted to sarcasm.

"What, no cowboy hat?"

"I left it at Ferg's place. Didn't think it would fit in too well in Philadelphia."

Ferg? The familiarity he showed regarding her temporarily displaced partner sparked an odd feeling of jealousy in her gut. His name was Ferguson. Where did he get off thinking he could call him Ferg after barely meeting him?

"Hmm."

"Is there a problem?"

"No."

"Okay then, let's go."

"Excuse me?"

"Well, Chief Simms said I'd been assigned a desk to use while I'm here."

She stared blankly at him until he gestured to the door, "He said you'd show me where it is?"

"Right."

Vic stood up, shot her boss a dirty look, and moved toward the door. The chief stopped her halfway there, "Walt, would you give us a minute?"

"Sure."

Chief Simms waited until Deputy Longmire had left and the door had closed all the way before looking Vic square in the eye, "Vic?"

"What now?"

"Be nice."

"Fine."

She took a deep breath. She could do this. She was a Moretti after all. She had put up with a hell of a lot worse things in her 34 years. What was 2 months anyway? It would be over in no time. With new resolve, she headed toward the door but was stopped short once again when she opened it to find another man standing in her way, "Seriously?!"

Mendoza made a face at her and leaned his head to the side, making eye contact with their boss. "Chief, we got a call on a body. I know it's our turn, but we're still finishing up the Collins case. You think Moretti and the new guy could take it?"

Chief Simms looked at Vic, "Well, you were saying a little bit ago that you didn't want to sit around the station all day. Are you ready to introduce Longmire to his first Philadelphia homicide?"

A new case. That's exactly what Vic needed. She knew the quickest way to get a man to stop smirking and start looking at her as an equal was to best him out in the field and that's just what she intended to do.


	6. Along for the Ride

**Thanks for continuing to hang in there with me! Some of you may realize it's the end of the semester so my already limited time has been even more so. There will be more to the story, just not sure when. I appreciate all the readers and reviews!**

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Vic was walking more quickly than she usually did. While she knew it was futile to try to outrun the man following behind her she couldn't seem to stop herself from trying. His long legs kept up with her easily, preventing her from gaining the distance from him she so desperately needed. She could hear his steady footsteps. The soles of those damn boots sounded solid, yet soft on the floor, in spite of the pace she had set. He had an assertive walk, calm, not rushed. It matched his behavior in the Chief's office just a few minutes before. Vic shook her head. That had been a total cluster fuck. How had she let herself get caught checking him out? She should have known better. She can be observant, yet subtle. In fact, she counted on that ability every day at her job. But there was something about him that disarmed her. She hadn't expected it. Then, instead of taking the high road and pretending not to notice, he had the audacity to draw attention to her behavior, in front of her boss no less. What a prick! And to top it all off he smirked at her. He actually smirked. What the hell was that about? She could only assume it stemmed from a deep seeded belief he held that he's God's gift to women or something. Well, contrary to what others may have told him, he's not all that. He's only minimally attractive and that cocky attitude certainly didn't help him. Who did he think he was anyway? He came into her house, not the other way around. You don't come in like that and just assume someone's going to fall at your feet. Women in Wyoming might be like that, but not here in Philly. Not her. She wasn't some girl who was only around to fawn over some man and boost his ego. Well, she'd show him a thing or two. She didn't put up with that sexist crap from her ex and she sure as hell wasn't going to put up with it from some yahoo from the middle of nowhere.

She held tighter to the keys she had grabbed from the top drawer of her desk. The feeling of their rough edges digging into her palm was a welcomed distraction, grounding her and taking her mind off the strange sensation she had been feeling in the pit of her stomach since she had left the chief's office. She continued down the hall and out the door, stopping short when she reached the parking garage. She tried to clear her head and remember where she had parked. As she scanned the area to look for her truck she caught an unexpected site, "What the fuck?"

Walt followed her eyes with his own. She was staring at Ferg's blue 1979 Trans Am.

"How the hell did that get here?" She was sure Ferg had told her that his father was going to take him to the airport for his flight to Cheyenne. So, his car should be at home, not at the station. Before she had a chance to formulate an explanation on her own she heard a slight jingling sound to her right and glanced toward it. The cowboy was holding out a set of keys.

"He's letting me use it while I'm here. Says she doesn't like it when she's not started regularly and there was really no point in my renting a car when he had a perfectly good one sitting around not being used. It's kind of fun to drive actually. You want me to"

She interrupted him before he could finish his question, "No, I don't want you to fucking drive. I realize this may not be how you do things out west but here in the big city, we don't drive the Pontiac or any other personal vehicle for work. Besides, you don't know where the hell you're going. "

"Well I'm, uh, pretty good at taking direction. You could do the navigating."

"You think? Of course, I'll do the navigating, and the driving too for that matter. You need to reel it in a little, Wyatt."

He paused to contemplate the nickname before deciding to ignore it for the time being, "Okay. I just want to pull my own weight while I'm here."

"You're going to have to do a hell of a lot more than just drive a damn car in order to pull your own weight around here."

"Fair enough, so where to?"

"I already told you, I'm driving."

"Yes, you did, but", he glanced around the garage, "I don't know which vehicle we're taking."

Letting out a huff, Vic stormed over to a black Ford Explorer she had finally located at the end of the row. He smiled and shook his head before following after her.

Walt may not have tried to investigate Detective Moretti on the internet the way she had him, but he had spent some time talking to her partner. He'd volunteered to pick Ferguson up at the airport, wanting to have time to give him a head's up about Lucian's...eccentricities. Getting some intel on Moretti had been an unexpected bonus. After showing him around Durant they'd ended up at the Red Pony for burgers and drinks. The amount of beer Ferg ingested seemed to have a positive correlation with how loose lipped he became about "Vic", his partner back in Philadelphia. Ferg told him about her father and older brothers and that she had a bit of a chip on her shoulder as a result. She'd not wanted to rely on the family reputation but instead used her own intelligence and skill to move up the ranks rather quickly. She was a ballistics expert and a top notch detective, not to mention an excellent shot. That wasn't all Ferg had shared with him, "She's sexy as hell, Walt, but watch out! I swear, she eats men alive. Way more woman than I could ever handle." He'd finished up the topic by letting it be known that she had just ended a serious relationship and had been a little more cranky than usual.

Walt had never partnered with a woman before and Vic sounded different from most women he currently knew. His mother had been a strong person but she was somewhat of an exception in his personal life. Most of the really independent women his own age had left Durant right after high school. The others had marryied their high school sweethearts and settled down in the area. He considered his last girlfriend, Lizzie. She was somewhat of a damsel in distress type. It wasn't that he had been particularly attracted to that part of her personality as that she was beautiful, held him in very high esteem and was available. She'd been married once to an older fellow who left her with a significant amount of land and a large chunk of change when he died in a work accident four years ago. She'd almost literally thrown herself at Walt when she fainted into his arms during an murder investigation after two dead bodies had been found on her property. With some not so subtle prodding from his boss, Walt had eventually asked her out. They'd broken up about 6 months ago: his idea, not hers. Still, she'd readily moved on and was already hot and heavy with his boss's younger brother Barlow. When you live in the least populated county in the least populated state and it happens to be the same small town you grew up in, there isn't a large pool of acceptable dating applicants. His best friend Henry had always told him he should find a woman from outside the area with which to settle down. The problem with that was finding someone from the outside who would make a move to Durant. He had dated a few people in college, but none of them would have been willing to live in Absaroka County and after his experiences living in LA and his military travels in the middle east, Walt had little desire to live anywhere else.

He turned his attention to the brunette currently driving at breakneck speed through the streets of Philadelphia. Ferg was right. She was gorgeous, even with a frown on her face. And she was definitely frowning right now. He didn't like the idea that he was the cause of her angst. He had been a bit of an ass though. He shouldn't have drawn attention to her like he did back at the station. He'd just been surprised to catch her in such a blatant appraisal, especially after what Ferg had said about her. Well, for better or worse, they were going to be partnered for the next two months. He thought he'd prefer it to be for better so decided to try to make amends so they didn't turn out to be the worst two months of his life.

"So, uh, you seem a little on edge this morning...Is everything okay?"

She kept her eyes straight ahead, "Yes."

"There's not a problem, or, uh, something you need to talk about?... I'm a pretty good listener."

"No."

Walt ran his tongue over the front of his teeth and sighed. He thought about cutting to the chase and straight up apologizing but figured it was not the time to bring up the very thing that had likely pissed her off in the first place. If he had learned anything in his 36 years on the earth it was when to stop talking. For now it was probably best to just sit back and go along for the ride.


	7. Need an ID

**My life has gone from busy to almost out of control stressful which has completely interfered with my writing. Thank you for your patience! Hope you enjoy the update.**

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Walt kept watch out the window as they made their way through the city streets. The view wasn't the same as looking out the windshield and seeing the Bighorns back home but there was definitely plenty here to look at. Walt wasn't totally new to city life. Still, it had been more than a couple of years since college and Philadelphia was much different than Los Angeles. He thought it was probably an east coast vs west coast thing. LA has anything you could ever ask for, but in his mind, it could never compete with the history and culture of plaes on the east coast and especially the City of Brotherly Love. He looked forward to wandering around, taking in the sites on his first day off and found himself wondering if his partner might be interested in joining him. It wasn't that he thought she'd be a stellar tour guide. It wasn't even that he minded being alone. In fact, many times he preferred it. It was just that this woman was already starting to get under his skin. He wanted to get to know her on a different level, away from work. Sure, he was getting way ahead of himself with that line of thinking, but he was only here for two months. He had to make the most of the time he had. There was no point in wasting any of it.

Vic pulled into a park in the southern part of town. He could see a small crowd gathered over near a dumpster at the back corner of the pavilion. Vic grabbed some disposable gloves from the middle console of the truck and opened the door without so much as a backward glance at him. He smiled before also grabbing some gloves and exiting the vehicle himself. He followed her down the small slope leading toward the crime scene. Damn that woman was stubborn.

He caught up in time to hear the patrol officer filling her in on what they knew so far.

"The victim's a female, young with no ID. There's ligature marks on her wrists and ankles. No obvious cause of death. She appears to be Native American."

"Who found her?"

"An 11 yr old boy was playing hide and seek with his buddies. He went behind the dumpster and found her. His mom heard him scream and ran over to see what had happened. She's the one that called it in."

Walt squatted down next to the body while Vic continued talking to the officer. He kept one ear on the conversation while he focused the rest of the attention on the girl in front of him. Something about her reminded him of home. He pulled up her left eyelid and then her right. He stood up where he was when he heard the officer's curiosity get the best of him.

"Who's that."

"He's taking Ferg's spot while he's out in Wyoming."

"Wyoming?"

"It's only temporary. The chief came up with some dumb ass idea and all of a sudden I'm stuck with this cowboy for two months. I'm trying to make the best of it."

Walt noticed that she didn't even try to keep her voice down so he decided to see if he could make her squirm like he did back at the station, "I'm glad to hear that."

She glanced away, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of a response.

The officer looked between then two of them a brief moment before patting Walt on the shoulder as he headed over to meet the ME's Forensic Investigation Unit that had just pulled in, "Good luck."

Vic couldn't help but respond to that, "Hey! What the fuck?"

The officer looked over at her and shrugged, "Sorry, Detective. I just call 'em like I see 'em"

Vic narrowed her eyes before storming over to where a woman was sitting on a bench with her arm around a young boy. Walt thought it might be best to let her question the witness on her own. He turned back to the body. Her Indian heritage was more than apparent by the tone of her skin, high cheek bones, and long, sleek black hair. She was dressed in faded jeans and a plain black shirt. She wasn't wearing any shoes but the bottoms of her feet were clean. He could see the edge of a string of blue beads peeking out from underneath her collar. He ran his finger under the string and slowly pulled. The beads continued along the string ending in a round beaded disk, also in blue. It was edged with a row of white and had a white bead work symbol in the middle. There were several strings of beads handing down from the pendant, alternating the same colors. It was intricate and beautiful. He gently placed the pendant on outside of her shirt. He tipped his head to the side, contemplating this new information. Maybe that's why she seemed familiar.

He stepped back, knowing it was time to let the investigators gather what evidence they could before taking the body back to their office.

Vic's return pulled him out of his own head.

"The kid and his mom didn't have more information to offer. They come to the park a lot and were here last night until dusk enjoying the warmer weather. Said she didn't notice anything suspicious at that time. What did you find?"

"We won't know for sure until we get an autopsy and tox screen, but her eyes are bloodshot."

"So she was suffocated."

"Looks that way."

"There's not a lot of cover here for something like that and she looks to be relatively clean. The ground's settled, no evidence of a struggle and no drag marks. The body had to have been dumped postmortem."

He slowly nodded.

She continued, "You find any ID that might have been missed?"

"Maybe."

"Maybe? What the hell's that supposed to mean?"

"I was always under the impression there wasn't much of a native population in Pennsylvania, that they all moved on a long time ago, after the government refused to officially recognize any tribes in the area."

She crossed her arms, unsure of where he was going with this, "That's right. We have some of the lowest numbers of any other state, though the population appears to be rising in recent years. Still, it's not all that common to see Native Americans, especially in Philadelphia. We do get lots of tourists though."

"I wonder if that's what she might be because she doesn't seem to be from around here, at least not originally."

"How do you know that?"

"Well, if memory serves, the Indians that were settled here were mostly Iroquois, Shawnee and Delaware, with a few smaller groups scattered about."

"And?"

He gestured toward the dead girl, "She isn't from any of those tribes...This girl's Northern Cheyenne."


	8. A phone call

Walt hadn't thought it possible, but the ride back to the precinct was perhaps even more tense than the ride to the crime scene had been. He hoped that eventually Detective Moretti would reach her full quota of pissed off and start letting things roll off her back a little. For now, however, that seemed like a pipe dream. He wasn't really sure why she was so mad at him this time. She was the one that had started things back there with the patrol officer by mouthing off about him. That wasn't exactly his fault.

Back at her desk, Vic quickly got to work without a second glance at her partner. She and Ferg had their own little rhythm that didn't require much communication. Out of habit she slipped right into her designated role. Identification was their first priority. Knowing who this girl was was the first step in figuring out who had killed her and why. She started by checking if anyone matching her description had been reported missing in the Philadelphia area. When that was a bust she got on the NamUS Missing Person Database to see what she could turn up. She was so focused that she didn't realize that Walt had moved up behind her. She jumped when she heard his deep voice right behind her head.

"That isn't going to do you any good."

"Really? I guess that's for me to decide, isn't it?"

"I guess it is if you want to waste your time."

She'd had enough. She was ready to really put him in his place, "Look, I understand you don't know how we do things here, but unlike where you are from, this is civilization. We use things like technology and" before she could get the rest of the rant out of her mouth, she spun the chair around to finish lecturing him face to face. What she hadn't counted on was for him to be standing as close to her as he was. Her legs crashed into his stopping her in her tracks, literally and figuratively.

Walt tried not to react, to keep a neutral look and not laugh, he really did. But, the look on her face was priceless. He fought to keep the corners of his mouth from turning up. It wasn't until she had silently and calmly made her way to the locker room, and the door had shut behind her that he allowed himself to really smile. He pulled a temporary cell phone from his pocket. He didn't normally have a cell phone, but the Absaroka County Sheriff's Department had provided the funds for him to buy a burner phone with prepaid service as soon as he had arrived in Philadelphia. Lucian and Ruby had insisted that they needed to be able to get a hold of him at a moment's notice while he was gone. Once he got back to Durant, the phone was going in the closet at work. He'd never wanted or needed a cell phone. But, he had to admit that today he was glad he had it. It was going to make this go a little easier. He pulled up a picture he had taken of the victim before the ME investigators had taken over at the park. He looked at it a moment before dialing a number and holding the phone up to his ear.

In the locker room, Vic stood leaning against the wall with her arms crossed over her chest. That man was infuriating. Once again he had made a fool of her, on her turf. She was seriously considering going straight to the chief's office and telling him that this just wasn't going to work out. The cowboy had to be partnered with someone else. She'd trade with someone, anyone really at this point. All that mattered was for her to get as far away from him as possible.

Walt leaned back in the desk chair, running his finger along the top of a nameplate embossed with "Detective Ferguson", and counting the rings as he waited for someone to pick up the phone.

"It is a Beautiful Day at the Red Pony and Continual Soiree."

"Hello, Henry."

"Walt. How is life in the big city? Are you ready to come home already?"

"Life in the city has been...interesting so far. And no. I'm not ready to come home just yet."

"Well then, to what do I owe this pleasure? I did not think I would hear from you while you were gone. You have never been one to enjoy talking on the phone."

"Nope. But, I thought you might be able to help me out with something."

"I will do the best I can. What do you need?"

"Can you tell me if there are any girls, late teens, early twenties who may have left the reservation recently?"

"Define recently."

"Within the last year or so, maybe two. Could be last week. I'm not really sure."

"There are a lot of young people who have left the Rez, Walt. The ones with means, leave as soon as they are able. Most never come back. They do not believe there is anything for them here."

Walt cast his eyes at the empty chair at the desk across from him, "Hmm. That's rough on those left behind."

"Yes, it is. But tell me, what does any of this have to do with Philadelphia?"

"A girl was found strangled at a local park this morning and my partner and I have been assigned to the case. I'm pretty sure she's Cheyenne."

"I know you have been around my people all your life, but how can you be so sure? There are not many Cheyenne in that part of the country."

"She was wearing a beaded pendant. The design on it was the Northern Cheyenne Flag."

"I see."

"If it will help, I have a picture of her I can send, assuming I can figure this texting thing out. I'm not sure you'd want to show it to anyone, but it may help you identify her based on other pictures, or, maybe personal knowledge."

"Send the picture. I will ask around, see what I can find out and call you back."

"Thanks Henry."

"You are most welcome. If we have lost one of our own, we need to complete the death ritual so her spirit can travel the star road to Seana."

Walt nodded out of habit, though he knew Henry couldn't see him.

"Walt?"

"Yes?"

"I think you should know that I have spoken to Detective Ferguson. He talked to me about his partner."

"And?"

"I think you should watch yourself. She sounds as if she might go out of her way to make your life difficult while you are there."

As if on cue, Vic walked out of the locker room and headed straight for the Chief's office, slamming the door behind her as she went in.

"You know what Henry? I think you may be right about that."

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 **I hope this chapter flowed okay for everyone. I've being trying some new things which have taken me out of my comfort zone a little bit. Thanks so much for the follows and favorites! They mean more than you know.**


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